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The Urban Rickshaw is my attempt at a monthly column. Why the title? Umm, quite simply cause I’m as urban as they get (ironically, I currently reside in the burbs of California but boo hoo) and the autorickshaw is my most favorite mode of transport. There’s no real smart funda here. But figuratively speaking, The Urban Rickshaw aims to take you on a “ride” through issues and news that affects modern, urban folks— much like us. All this as you chill on my rickshaw, of course.

Kim Kardashian…if only she were Desi

They knew early!

So for all this talk about love and nuptials, Kim has really put herself in quite a predicament with her 72 day marriage, no? While the international media is calling this a staged act, a publicity stunt and so on, here’s a Desi girl’s take on the her quickie marriage and even quicker divorce. Personally, I’m slightly more conservative when it comes to marriage— this is my OTT Desi opinion, but I think marriage is a bond forever. No matter how hard it gets. Please note: I am a byproduct of a “broken home” putting it politically incorrectly. My parents worked at it for seventeen years before they called it quits. Kim’s 72 days is a complete sham in comparison. On the other hand, if I shed my conservative mask, I think she knew she was doomed from the beginning. For all those who followed Kim and Kris Humphries from their courting to marriage, you figured out rather early that he was a royal jerk. That said, she could have easily called it off, one would think. Problem is she would have lost out on close to $18 million buckaroos. Ain’t nobody gonna give that up. And so, it made more sense for her to live with the jerk— yes, that is what we are naming him forever, stick it out for a few days, all of 72, and then ta-ta bye-bye. Now if Kim were Desi, she may have stuck it out a bit more: 720 days at least. Then we probably wouldn’t have deemed her pathetic and so on. Where do I lie with this? On the fence. So I put this to the one woman who would give me the best explanation: my grandmother. Her answer: “What do Americans know about marriage? It’s a joke for them. And a woman is incomplete without a man, you know (this was a stab at me, by the way). Now everyone will look at her and say, ‘See she couldn’t even keep her man.’” On a side note, I refused to tell her this was her second marriage. I was too worried she’d have a heart attack.

Barbie Gone Deglam

Barbie the Nerd

I really thought it was only our Bollywood actresses who went about scraping for deglam roles because they believed it would add substance to their careers. Negative. The makers of Barbie have come out with this new angle to Barbie called, “I Can Be”. The idea is to normalize Barbie. So now instead of Princess Barbie and Prom Barbie, you can have Architect Barbie—which is apparently the 2011 career of the year (where they got this from, I have no idea). Is anyone else really bummed by this? I’ll be the first to admit it. I loved Barbie as a child. But I liked her cause she was out of the ordinary, popular and perfect. Barbie didn’t go to school, struggle with acne or bullying. She was OTT and that was the magnetizing factor. She was anything but regular. By normalizing her, Mattel has totally taken away the Barbie novelty factor. What upset me even more was when I saw Computer Engineer Barbie. Imagine all the sleazy Desi guys at Cisco Bangalore. The thought of a Barbie working in their office must really make them want to work “harder”. In the words of Twitter, #epicfail.

And keeping with the theme of autorickshaws, guess what? Mumbai rickshaw wallahs will now be given a lesson or two in politeness and etiquette. Yeah, no more rude crude drivers. What more could you want? The best mode of transport and good service too. Oh and soon, you’ll be able to dial and call for a rick. It just gets better!

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About Me

If you think you’ve hit yet another one of woh-wale blogs, then I’m here to tell you otherwise. I’m hardly your 'run of the mill' writer. To me, the current Indian government is a piece of crap but the monsoon rains makes Bombay (yeah, I said Bom-Bay; shoot me already Shiv Sena) absolutely heavenly. The scent of phenyl at Chhatrapati Shivaji Airport makes me tear with nostalgia while the sound of honking autos is totally O.K. to me. I'm currently in a love-hate relationship with Bollywood and yet I’m the biggest Hindi cinema freak. They don’t call me a walking-talking Stardust for no reason. I’m sick of hearing of Ranbir Kapoor linkups with actress XYZ but when he drops his towel, well, then baby, I’m a fan. I love Cricket and bleed blue for my boys every time Team India plays. I think Desi reality shows are a load of bullocks (too much chillam-chillee for me) but watch them incestuously. I live a life of contradictions, walk like diva, currently reside in a country I detest, cannot understand why sex is such a taboo, love/celebrate every festival and intend on opening a cupcake shack on a beach in Goa when I retire. I conceal my item girl ada and nazakat (theeki, namkeen, mirchi and of course, meethi) behind a Rajshri heroine veil. Think of me as Desi daaru in a champagne bottle.

So why should you read my blog? Well, besides the fact ke mein asli entertainment, entertainment, entertainment hoon, Roshni Write Now displays the wild side of a good girl. This is how I see it; what annoys, irks, irritates me and of course, what I love, worship and choose to glorify. This is the world through my dark brown eyes.

A quick heads up. I live a masala-filled life overflowing with chutzpah, dhinchak lines, filmy situations and slightly ghaati Hindi gaalis. There's no measuring for me; I'm an extremist. I love as passionately as I hate but somehow I'm a people person who is curious (read: nosy) about others lives. Another piece of FYI, I have a fetish for shoes, cupcakes, ginger, dim sum and all objects heart-shaped. I use the following words in excess: Uff, Offo, Whatever, Ainvayi, Ditto, Dukkar and Anal. My accent is constantly fluctuating- Desi/Hinglish to American and British all combined in a sentence courtesy of my global living. You will see glimpses of all this and much more in my writing.

I speak my mind and it gets me into trouble. I wear my heart on my sleeve and that seems to have gotten me no where too. You'd think I'd have learned by now but I have yet to learn (and master) the art of diplomacy. It's on my 'To Do' list.

Mujhe afsos karna nahi aata, so if I upset you, get over it instead of taking panga with me because I always win. Lastly, while I refuse to kiss ass, I sure as hell can kick some. I see the world through Desi eyes and can Desify anything, anyone, any topic. Try me.